No Strings Attached
by SwampyGreenie
Summary: When Matthew is looking for Gilbert's affection, he winds up in a friendship that can be the farthest thing from normal. Not to mention, his cousin; Francis is a major pervert. But what is he supposed to do when Gilbert's fan club notices him and his dad hates his gayness? Rated M for mature. Full warning inside...
1. The Invitation

**Hey guys! SwampyGreenie here~! I hope you are enjoying yourselves…I know I am! I don't know where I came up with the idea for this story, but it was originally supposed to be a one-shot…Well, I guess I got carried away again…like I always do! **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one. I worked hard on it. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do no own Hetalia or its characters. I only own what I do to them.**

**Warnings: Excessive drinking scene, cute yaoi situations, no smut (sorry), detailed bullying, nice Gilbert, Francis, human names, AU (Alternative Universe), blahblahblah…among other stuff. **

**Side note: This is rate M for a very specific reason. No, there is no smut. No there is no violence…well if you could count verbal and forceful bullying that, but that's why it is rated M. The bullying scene is explicit so please be mature about it and don't hag me for not having any smut scenes. There will actually be a short one-shot smut scene afterwards, but that comes later. For now,**

**Enjoy~!**

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**No Strings Attached**

Matthew tapped his pencil to his paper as his face slid further down against his hand. The grey clock ticked away the seconds on the wall as his History teacher slipped into the beginnings of an hour long lecture on some crazy historic man named Rasputin. He sighed as he glanced up at the clock to calculate the time left.

One hour.

Class had only just started a few minutes ago, but it already felt like the classroom had effectively drowned the students in its bleak belly. An hour was such a long time to do nothing but listen to a 60-something-year-old drone on about a legendary immortal. The Canadian boy, who was usually ignored, scanned the classroom for signs of a certain student, but sadly he could not spot the white, spiky hair.

Lost for hope of some form of entertainment, Matthew looked back down and tuned in to the lecture to take some well needed notes. Not even five minutes later, the door handle click as the knob was turned. Matthew glanced up as three best friends strolled in. The class clowns… The student body's dirtiest perverts… The school's most dangerous gang.

The Bad Touch Trio.

"Bonjour, mes chéris ~!" The first one sang as he sauntered further into the room. Few people glanced up, but only shortly.

Francis Bonnefoy wasn't the most likable of the trio. He was the dirtiest pervert and had a tendency to reach out and grope random asses in the halls. His long blond hair fell just past his Adam's apple. It hung around his face in greasy clumps, but he liked to call them gorgeous locks. Many kids hated talking to him. Half the time no one understood the man; either his accent was too heavy or they just didn't speak 'proper' French.

He loved to frustrate the student body's senior representative; Arthur Kirkland, a snobbish rich kid with too much time and money on his hands. He could be halfway decent when he was doing things for other people, but he had a nasty habit of cursing and coming up with rude, pompous nicknames for people. His favorite was 'bloody frog'; a nickname he had reserved for Francis alone. Some people thought they were secretly dating, despite all of the negativity they displayed to one another in public.

"Hola amigos!" The next guy waved cheerfully as he strode in the room, a bounce in his step. Some girls glanced at him, but otherwise buried their heads in their textbooks; least they get caught staring gawk-eyed at the delinquent.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was an airhead kind of guy who was actually rather nice, despite the fact that he was in the gang. There was some rumor floating around that he had only become friends with the other two of the trio because he had grown up with them and they were like his brothers. The rumor also stated that he just followed along because he was too imprudent to see the bad in anything. He seemed to never take school seriously and was always smiling brightly to people. His attitude was almost contagious, and his looks were something to die for.

He had a head of thick Spanish curls that framed his face and stuck up in weird ways. Some girl's called it the 'sexy Spanish bedhead', others just ogled. His eyes were a piercing emerald green that lit up every time he met someone new and his tan skin just clung tight to his fit body. A body that most high school jocks would die for.

Not to mention, he had that kind of ass, even the straight guys would stare at. It didn't help that he would wear tight jeans that accentuated his firm butt and tone thighs. He could say, at the very least, he had been smacked in the ass a few times too many in his high school years so far. However, it was obvious that Francis was his most frequent customer. It baffled some people that Antonio could hang out with such a sick guy like him, but then again, he was also dating the son of Italy's most prominent mafia boss. So who knew?

"Wie geht's." The last friend of the trio saluted in German with a cool head nod, as he strolled in the classroom with his hands deep in his pockets. Most of the kids lifted their heads, along with Matthew.

Gilbert Beilschmidt.

That's it.

That's all you needed to know.

Say that name and a whole group of girls would be draped around your ankles anxiously waiting to hear any form of gossip about the man. His reputation was considered to be quiet awesome around the school.

He was a German model of some sorts, whose albino features made him almost legend in the city of Germany where he had grown up. Not many people were born naturally albino with an inversion to sunlight. Some households had praised him like a God when he was a child. Now, all the girls fawned over him and pressed kisses to the ground he walked on. Even the guys had to stand back and admire the guy for all of his worth. He was pretty awesome.

Matthew secretly had a crush on the German. He loved how, when his hair got too long and fell into his eyes; Gilbert would jerk his head to the side, almost gracefully, and swing the soft, short, snowy locks out of his glowing eyes. He loved how when he would turn to look at you, it would be like he was searching inside you for something worthwhile to give him a reason to give you a time of his day. Those vibrant scarlet eyes would bore into everything intensely, especially when he got bored.

Despite the fact that true albinos' are extremely pale and burn easy, Gilbert's skin maintained that milky-white flawless tone. It was weird because he was always out in the sun. Matthew just figured that he used sun-screen like a madman. Antonio and Francis were always with him, and the Spaniard managed to turn a healthy sun-kiss tone and the Frenchman just burned. It was definitely strange…or maybe it wasn't. After all, Gilbert was a model; he must know his limits in the sun if he wasn't to retain that gorgeous look of perfection.

He had a tone body, built like Antonio, but was a complete heads taller than that fool. He didn't have an ass as good as Antonio's, but his was a close call. It didn't help that no one had gotten the nerves to pants him and see just exactly what he was hiding, unlike Antonio; he had been pants too many times.

Gilbert's sense of clothes fit well for his sexy model self and most kid would die if he left a jacket in the room or something. Gilbert didn't even know how much the girls fawned over him when he wasn't around. Half the time he ignored girls that tried to steal his heart. He was unshakable. Some rumors had spread that he was into guys, but there had been no justification and so only a few people clung to that rumor hopefully.

Matthew rolled his eyes over his crush and smiled slightly. He liked what he saw.

Gilbert had thrown on some pull over hoodie that stated boldly: 'I AM AN AWESOME GUY!' Underneath the words was a Prussian flag. Gilbert didn't like to tell people that he was German. He'd rather tell people he was from Prussia. He believed that the dead nation was far more awesome than Germany could ever be.

Matthew personally thought it was cool of him. At least, the dead nation got more attention with Gilbert around than Matthew's own home land did. Canada wasn't appreciated as much. People tended to not notice the cold country, even when they invented things that had a large impact on day-to-day lives. The Canadians never got much recognition. That was one reason Matthew wasn't popular or anything.

Matthew shook his head, ignoring the pain in his heart for his homeland and continued to eye his secret crush.

Gilbert had on skinny jeans today, but they bagged slightly. A wallet chain hung from his belt loop to his back pocket and he wore a heavy studded belt laced through the belt loops. He wore his blue converse that also proclaimed he was awesome. When he had walked in the room, he had kept his eyes ahead, ignoring the fact that the whole class had looked up at him. Some students thought that when he ignored people, he was just trying to be awesome.

Matthew was one of the few people who knew the model's sexual preferences. Francis was Matthew's second cousin and he had drilled the gang leader one night until he had found out. Gilbert actually _did_ have a thing for guys, but all the guys that approached him weren't his type. Matthew never had a chance of talking to him face-to-face, and he hoped one day he could. But until that time came, he had made sure Francis swore never to tell his secret.

He wanted Gilbert to notice him on his own. Too bad, every time the German model looked in his direction, his eyes seemed to pass right through the Canadian.

"What are you guys thinking, coming to my class late?" The old teacher asked harshly. He didn't take kindly to late comers or delinquents.

Francis stepped up and winked, waving a white nurse pass in front of the teacher's nose. "You should take our tardiness up with Nurse Blair." He sang. "We were with her."

The teacher's eyes hardened, but he clamped his mouth shut and motioned for then to find a seat. Of course the only empty desks were all the way in the back; all three surrounding Matthew. Antonio sat in front of him and Francis and Gilbert to his left and right.

Matthew tried to ignore the pounding of his blood in his head. He was getting very nervous sitting so close to Gilbert; who had nonchalantly slouched down in the seat, his feet propped up on the book basket of the chair in front of him. His hands were still buried in his pockets as he proceeded to ignore the lecture that had continued the moment they sat down.

It's not that he didn't like school; he was just tired of the bullshit that came with it. People never took school seriously. At least, that's what Matthew got out of his reactions. He had spotted Gilbert, on more than one occasion, sitting in his car and studying for a test or something. Not to mention, he had already aced the class last year. They only put him in it again because, for some reason, he needed an extra space filled on his schedule card.

"Pst, Francis." Gilbert leaned closer to Matthew and looked around his shoulders. Matthew hunched over his desk and tried to ignore the German's hand that had clamped down on the back of his chair, so that he wouldn't tumble forward in his seat. "Francis!" He whispered louder.

The French guy looked up from his doodle of a rose.

"Qu'est ce que c'est?" He asked in French. Matthew quickly translated the words in his head to English. _What is it?_

Gilbert leaned in closer. "West is going to get together with some of his older college friends. He wants to throw a party tonight at our house. You should come with Toni."

"Mais, bien sûr!" He exclaimed. _But, of course!_ "But…" He trailed off for a second. "…do you think I could bring my cousin along?"

Heat flooded Matthew's face and he turned to Francis, making desperate _no_ faces at him. Of course he cousin was going to try and set him up with Gilbert.

"Who?" Matthew bit his lip, staring right at Francis, begging with his eyes. Francis smiled sweetly and leaned over to clap Matthew on the back.

"My cousin, Matthew." He said slyly.

Gilbert pulled back and smiled widely. "Oh, hey. I didn't know you were Francis's cousin."

Matthew turned slowly to face his crush. He tried to play it cool and put a smirk on his features. However, inside his hoodie sleeves, his palms were clammy with nervous sweat. It didn't help that he could feel the heated look his cousin was giving to his back.

"Hi." He said quietly, as his voice cracked slightly. He gave a head nod of acknowledgment, before lowering his gaze to the floor.

Either he didn't notice, or Gilbert just ignored the nervousness emitting from the shy kid. Instead, he looked up at Francis and asked, "How come you never told me he was your cousin? He's been in this class the entire year and you never introduced us."

To Matthew he said, "Come on, loosen up, kid." He clapped a hand on Matthew's shoulder and gave it a reassuring shake. The violet eyed kid didn't know what to do; his crush was touching him! "It seems like you don't get invited to parties that often, but sure you can come. It'll be fun."

Francis smiled sweetly at Gilbert.

"You know I can always count on you to say yes to moi! And he's just shy all the time, ignore it. He'll open up once you get to know him better."

Matthew perked up, slightly annoyed at his cousin. He didn't want his cousin telling Gilbert all about his weaknesses! He wanted to be cool in front of the guy, for God's sake!

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Francis!" He whispered, mortified at his own annoyance.

"Oh hon hon~!" Francis put his hands up in surrender. "So that dark side comes out now!"

"And just what are we talking about here boys?" The teacher stood over them and glared down at Francis. Matthew glanced up nervously; a deer in the headlights and quickly came up with a response.

"Nothing important sir. We were just talking about how Rasputin had eloped with the Princess Anastasia." The older man eyed him curiously, silently wondering why the best student would stand up for two of the class clowns, but he didn't reprimand the kid. He was too _good_ to get in trouble. So the teacher just mumbled '_fine'_ and walked away, returning to the last five minutes of his lecture.

"Hey, kid." Gilbert whispered to Matthew. "Thanks for that." The latter shrugged nonchalantly and turned to glare at Francis, who had returned to his doodle without another word.

.

.

When the bell rang, Matthew shuffled out of the classroom as fast as he could. He didn't want to have a reason to stay behind and have Francis talk to him about Gilbert. He drew his books closer to his chest as he hurried, unnoticed by the students, down the hall to his brother's car, where it was parked in the student lot.

"Alfred." He said as he approached the red Mustang. His younger brother looked up from the gaggle of girls that surrounded him and waved cheerfully, his trademark cowlick bouncing in his enthusiasm.

"What's up, little bro?! Ready to go?" The younger brother raised an arm and unlocked the car doors with the car remote.

Matthew nodded and slipped into the passenger seat of the car. It was another minute before his younger brother broke away from his group of admirers and slipped into the driver's seat, smiling goofily.

"So, you wouldn't believe what happened today in lunch! So this new girl…" Matthew tuned out his brother's normal ride-home chatter and gazed out the window. Trees and street signs flew by in colorful blurs.

When they arrived home he unlocked the front door and made a beeline straight for his room. He locked himself in. It was Friday and he was planning to hole himself up for the rest of the night. He was too nervous and upset about being forced to go to Gilbert's party to want to eat anything.

He plopped face-down in the pillows piled up on his bed and pulled his stuffed polar bear to his chest. He buried his nose into the ratty fur and smiled comfortably at the familiar scent of stale ice and laundry detergent. When he was little had had always pretended that she was his best friend...

.

.

Matthew awoke suddenly to his brother pounding on his door.

"Mattie! I know you're in there! Cousin Francis and told me to tell you to check your phone! He's been trying to get ahold of you for the past few hours!" The pounding persisted as Matthew dragged himself off the tousled sheets, shuffled over to the door and cracked it open to answer his brother. The hallway light shone brightly, momentarily blinding him.

"Yeah…" He groaned at his brother. Alfred had shut up when the door opened. "I'll look at it...the phone…"Alfred looked over his elder brother; mousy blond hair in a tumble mess of bed head, lavender eyes half-shut from the bright light and sleepiness.

"Shit Mattie, you look like…well, shit." He pressed a glass of water into Matthew's hand and told him to drink up. "By the way," He said hesitantly, as Matthew chugged down the water greedily. "…dad called in earlier when we got in."

"Yeah…? What did he say?" Matthew asked as he licked a few beads of water from his lips. Their father had left a few days ago to go on a business trip. He was supposed to return Monday night.

"He said he would have to…stay in England for another week…negotiations aren't going too well."

Matthew groaned and mumbled something about wanting to go back to sleep. His younger brother bid him goodnight, taking the empty glass out of his hand and telling him that there was some leftover burgers in the fridge, just in case he got hungry later. Matthew nodded and locked the door again, before flopping down on the messed up sheets.

The sun had long set and his room was almost pitch black except for the shard of moonlight slicing through the crack in his blinds. He slung his arm onto the bedside table and lifted his phone, blinking at the brighter light emitting from the LED screen.

There were five messages, two missed calls and a voicemail.

Francis had called both times and left three text messages. The other two were from his good friend, Carlos and Francis's best bud, Antonio; why he was texting Matthew, he didn't know.

He dialed his voicemail first.

_Bonjour, my sweet cousin! I just wanted to tell you to check your text messages! I sent you the party's information. Please, s'il te plaît, read them tonight! Stay happy, au revoir!_

Matthew yawned as he hung up. He scrolled through the texts.

Carlos was calling him a sly dog for getting invited to Gilbert's party. He was the only other guy, besides Francis, that knew Matthew was crushing on the German model. He sent a text back telling him that he had been set up. Antonio left him a message saying that he needed his stuff.

_Wtf is he talking about?_ Matthew thought as he scrolled through the last three texts.

According to Francis, the party was tomorrow at six, but Francis was going to have him there early to set up, so he wanted him there around three. Antonio was going to pick him up since he lived the closest to Matthew. He needed to send Antonio his address. The third text was telling him to get really drunk at the party.

Apparently, Gilbert was a sucker for easy drunkards.

Matthew groaned loudly. Francis was seriously trying to kill him. He scrolled back to Antonio's text and sent him his home address, before glancing at Francis's second text. The one he hadn't read. It told him to wear something casual, but not too casual. Something along the lines of a button-down shirt with skinny jeans.

Matthew looked away from his phone and got lost in thought, thinking of what he should wear. Gilbert hadn't said anything along the sorts of the party being even remotely fancy, but he didn't have his number to ask him, so he decided to ask the second best; Antonio.

He texted the airhead asking him what he should wear.

Antonio's reply back was that it was just a college-boy party, just wear whatever is comfortable. Matthew sighed, at least he wasn't going to show up over dressed and seemly trying too hard, unlike Francis always did. He had good reasons to doubt his cousin's words sometimes.

With the texting out of the way, he rolled off the bed and kicked off his red converse. He had fallen asleep in his school clothes and felt the sudden urge to get clean. He pulled his blue hoodie over his head and shivered in the sudden wave of cold air that washed over his bare arms. He shimmied out of his skinny jeans, leaving on his black under-tank and his black boxer briefs. The bundle of clothes were then, tossed in the dirty laundry basket.

After brushing his teeth, Matthew returned to his room to strip completely and toss the rest of his clothes into the basket as well. In the bathroom, fully nude, he lit a candle on the side of the sink, before turning off the bathroom light.

The soft glow of the white candle's flame flickered calmly off the white tiles of the walls and he pulled a fresh towel from the shelf and placed it on the closed toilet lid. He stepped in the shower and turned the water to cool. Not too warm so that he would waste the hot water, but not too cold so that he would freeze to death, either.

He scrubbed away the grim and sweat that clung to his skin and then lathered his dirty blonde hair with shampoo. He stood under the waters spray and rinsed off the suds.

_I seriously hope that I can make it through tomorrow without being weird around Gilbert…_He mused as he smoothed conditioner into the ends of his hair. He flushed at the thought of being so close to Gilbert; even in his own home!

Matthew turned off the water and dried off with the towel, before pulling back the shower curtain. He sat on the side of the bathtub as he filled the tub with hot water. With the water still running, he padded into his room, feet sinking into the soft rug, and grabbed his IPod off the bed side table. He plugged it into his speakers and scrolled down the long list of songs. _Play_ was pressed on his favorite, soothing trance playlist.

The sweet scent of lavender soap swirled in the steam rolling off the walls. He sighed as he sunk down in the tub, the hot water washing over his aching body. His head fell back and his eyes slid closed. The water lapped gently against his body as he let his worries and doubts drift away.

Well, almost.

.

.

The burring of his phone snapped him out of his own trance. He hadn't realized he had been sitting there, soaking for over twenty minutes. The skin of his fingers and toes were starting to shrivel slightly and turn a ghastly pale. He unplugged the drain and stepped out onto the plush floor towel. He dried off again and toweled his hair as he walked into his room, leaving the candle burn away on the counter. The soft light of the candle illuminated through the doorway and somewhat into his room. Just enough so that he could see what he was doing.

Digging through his drawers he found his favorite pair of boxer briefs and slid them on. They were red and had a white maple leaf on one hip, and the word 'CANADA' running vertical in white lettering on the other. Matthew didn't bother looking for more clothes to put on, it's not like he needed them. He had always slept near nude.

He returned to the bathroom and blew out the candle before walking back into his room in the dark. With one hand pawing at the towel slung over his damp hair, he picked up the phone.

_One missed call from Francis Bonnefoy (The pervert cousin)._

According to his phone, it was twelve thirty-four, what was Francis doing calling him at this time? He nearly jumped as his phone buzzed in his hand.

_Incoming call from Francis Bonnefoy (The pervert cousin)._

Matthew groaned inwardly and pressed the call button.

"Yeah?" He answered the phone.

"Oh~! Thank God~!" Francis sang stupidly. He definitely sounded drunk. Too drunk for Matthew's standards. "I'm so glad you answered the phone~! I need your opinion!" In the background, hard laughing and drunk cheering came through, slightly muffled. Matthew felt the sudden urge to slap his forehead.

Leave it to Francis to get drunk first thing Friday night.

"Do you think that…" He trailed off for a second before nearly blowing up Matthew's eardrums with loud French. "…j'ai un petit queue?!" Matthew immediately flushed. Did his cousin seriously just ask him if he thought he had a small dick?! At this time of night?!

Yes.

But not really serious, anyway. He was too drunk for that. Francis was never serious when dead drunk. Matthew didn't even bother answering his question; he just hung up the call. Lying down on his bed, he curled up and let his eyes slip close. Hopefully some wonderful sleep would overtake him.

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**Hey! SwampyGreenie here! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of "No Strings Attached". I feel like this story is going nowhere so far, but don't worry, it will go far! I promise my dearies! **

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading and look forward to the next chapter!**

**~SwampyGreenie**


	2. Kava

**Hello my dears. Thanks for waiting. I'm glad that you're back to read this newer chapter and if you're new, thanks for checking out my story. I present to you, the next chapter!**

**Voila~!**

**So as a brief recap of the last chapter: _Matthew is invited to go to Gilbert's party and is so nervous; he wants to hole up in his room for a while. In that time he falls asleep._**

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Darkness started to ebb away and his dream slowly faded. His body and mind were becoming conscious of the bed, the sheets and the stuffed bear jammed under his side.

"…Mattie…" A voice called softly. "Mattie…" It got louder as a hand pressed into his shoulder and rocked him awake. "Come on, Mattie…it's already noon…get up. Francis told me to wake you up. He told me you were going to a party…come on…" His brother sounded like he was about to start whining. Matthew hated when people whined, so he turned over and pulled himself awake.

"Alright…I'm up…" He groaned as he squinted one eye and rubbed his palm into the other.

"Cool. Come down stairs when you want breakfast or lunch. I made grilled cheese sandwiches." Alfred turned on his heel and left, leaving the door ajar. Matthew groaned again and turned over to press his face into the pillows. Sure he was awake, but that never meant he wanted to get out of bed.

He pointed his feet and stretched his legs, curling his toes and cracking stiff joints. He arms reached above him and fingers curled around the headboard as he breathed deeply, blood circulating much easier throughout his body. When he relaxed again, exhaling as he did so, warm trails of tingling tendrils curled along his spine and down his thighs. He dragged himself away from the warm sheets and checked his phone.

One missed call from Antonio. One voicemail.

_Good morning! I would say that in Spanish, but you don't strike me as a Spanish speaker. Anyway, I'm going to have to pick you up half an hour later than planned. I have to fill in and complete the last half hour of someone's shift at work. They had some appointment or something. Anyway, be ready by three thirty! I'll text you when I'm outside. Adios!_

Matthew plugged his phone into the charger and shuffled around his room getting dressed. Before he walked out, he looked over himself in the mirror. He was dressed in a red hoodie with ripped skinny jeans. Checking his phone he noticed he had three hours to do what he wanted. He decided he would take a walk after he ate.

.

.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Alfred hummed as he shoveled grilled cheese sandwiches in his mouth. Matthew rolled his eyes as he ate his sandwich standing at the counter. It was pretty good. The Munster cheese was melted perfectly on the buttered bread and the tomatoes were just ripe. The orange juice, freshly squeezed, was almost perfection on his taste buds.

After he finished, he placed his dishes in the sink. Alfred said, for once, that he would wash them. Matthew grabbed his keys and phone before he sunk his feet into his shoes and walked outside.

There was a slight gloomy cloud cover, but Matthew liked it like that. At least he wouldn't sweat his ass off and the sun wouldn't blind him or burn his face through the lenses of his glasses.

He walked around the neighborhood, admiring the neat houses and nicely trimmed yards before he ventured further, into the outskirts of downtown. The streets were loitered with people shopping, looking to eat, and chatting. Some smart people carried their umbrellas, just in case at any moment it would rain. Others, like Matthew, left them at home. Deeper in the maze of buildings and streets, the crowd grew a little heavier.

He eyed a Kava Bar and fumbled in his pockets. He had left his wallet at home, but luckily he had thought to stuff his debit card in his back pocket. What a great way to spend the next few hours; sitting in a Kava Bar relaxing.

The place was small and dark inside. All kinds of tables were set up here and there; a chess table, some glass box filled with wood and vines, wrapped in neon lights, a tree stump. The chairs were random too. Matthew felt like he had walked into a dark version of Wonderland, or a rainforest. Relaxing music played from an unknown source and he studied the bar. It was framed by a large tree-like statue. He would have believes the tree to be real if he hadn't know that he was inside of a building. The top of the tree branched out across the ceiling and only thin streams of green light peaked through the fake wood and leaves. The walls were painted in all kinds of nature designs; trees, Egyptian eyes, swirls of blues and purples, a naked woman, flowers, mushrooms; it was hypnotizing.

The bartender approached him and he ordered one Kava drink. Paying for it, he took the coconut cup with one hand and grabbed the small plate with pine apple on it. He took the table in the far back and settled comfortably in the plush chair. His table was an overly, large jar splattered on the inside with soft glowing neon paint. There was only one couple in the front. They were seated at the chess table.

He downed the bitter drink in one swig, before placing a slice of pineapple on his tongue and settling back. Closing his eyes he waited for the tingle of the herb on his tongue. The music sounded like chimes bowling softly in the wind. The chimes were relaxing and they carried him away from the daily worries that usually plagued his mind. He drifted into a meditation state.

.

.

After meditating for about an hour, Matthew started to feel the slight tingle of his taste buds. He opened his eyes and brought his mind back to the real world, where he sat in the now empty Kava Bar. The bartender had gone in the back for something.

He glanced to his side and picked up a book that was on the short book shelf next to his table.

_The Slave Species of God._

Matthew suppressed an eye roll and placed the book back, before picking up a large sketchpad from an adjacent table. He shifted through some of the pictures and stopped at a rather pretty one.

It was a profile pen-sketch of a woman with nineteen-twenty's hair and long, dark lashes that brushed her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were closed and a small beauty mark was carefully drawn high up on her cheekbone. He lips were small, but full and the gracefully curved, slender column of her neck was wrapped in a detailed tattoo of a Chinese dragon's, lizard-like body. His head seemed to have become smoke and rolled off her skin into a beautiful display of 3D artistic ability. A stream of fire burst from his open fangs, and ignited the corner of the page. The artist had drawn the page torn and burning away. It was the perfect illusion of the bottom corner curling away and the page underneath bearing a smeared pile of ash and burn streaks.

Matthew smiled.

Whoever had drawn this had a pure unadulterated talent and sense of striking imagination. In the corner of the image, by the fading line of the graceful collarbone, there was a gentle signature. The name, he couldn't read, but at least he knew it started with a 'G'.

He turned the next page and chucked at the child-like drawing of a unicorn. Beneath the picture, the artist had written a little note in large, spidery scrawl.

_Hi! My name is Vincent! I really love the little missy who just drew the picture before me. She's smiling right now trying to read this. She's the best artist in the world and one day I hope she becomes famous. For now though, enjoy my unicorn before you go ogle her picture if you haven't already. Cheers!_

Matthew smiled again. _How cute._ He thought. It wasn't often that love was displayed in such a private, yet public manner.

He returned the sketchbook and sat back enjoying his remaining hour by nibbling on pineapple and thinking about what he was going to do at the party. It's not like there was much for him to day at the party anyway. He had only been to one other high school party, and there he had been ignored the entire time. He kept to the corner of the room standing there awkwardly wondering why he ever came in the first place. The person who had been supposed to bring him home even forgot he was there and left without him. He wound up walking all the way home in the bitter, biting cold of mid-winter. He never talked to the kid again.

When it was nearing the time for him to leave, he stood up and walked out, silently thanking the bartender with a clever nod. The cloud cover had pushed away and the sun was shining bright. Matthew sighed and pulled his hoodie over his head, slinging it over one shoulder. His white tank top was cool and loose as he walked home.

.

.

He got home just as Antonio's Jeep was rolling in the driveway, so he walked up to the driver's window and tapped on it. Antonio rolled down the window, smiling brightly.

"Hola amigo!" He greeted. "You ready?"

Matthew cringed at his overly joyful mood. "Yea…"He said softly. He was never a hard spoken person. "I have to go get something. I'll be right out." He went inside and grabbed his wallet before walking to his brother's room.

Alfred laid belly-down on the bed with a game controller in his hand. He had big headphones on his ears as he played the "Silent Hill" game. He whimpered and whispered something to Tony, his plushy toy alien. Matthew rolled his eyes. Al was such a baby when it came to scary movies and games.

Matthew cleared his throat and Al looked up, before shifting the headphones off of an ear.

"What's up Matt?" He asked, almost cheerfully, ignoring the fact that he didn't pause the game and some creepy woman-zombie was walking up to him in a white dress.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm heading out now. I won't be back until late, so don't wait for me with dinner."

"Cool! Have fun!" Alfred beamed before returning to the game as Matthew stepped out of the room and hurried outside as he pulled on his hoodie again. Antonio sat in the idling Jeep, waiting for him. Matthew hopped in the passenger side and Antonio pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street.

Matthew was quiet on the car ride there, but inside he was very jittery with excitement as butterflies fluttered in his stomach nervously.

* * *

**Whooo! Another chapter is up and done! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I really enjoyed writing about the Kava Bar. There's one where I live and it is just like I described in the story. :D It's a really cool place to go and have some Kava and then relax. :) **

**As for that sketch, there is a sketchbook in the Kava Bar near me. There is an actual drawing of that picture in the book. :) And it was drawn by none other than me! :P The only thing that I made up was the part of the drawing where it looks like the fire is burning the page. I just put that in there because it sounded cool. xD As for the picture after that, that is also in the sketchbook. A very close friend of mine did draw a unicorn and did write something along those lines. (The names and initials are purely fake though. I'm sure you can understand why.)**

**Anyway, enough chatting~! I hope that you liked this enough to want to review. Let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions leave a review. :)**


	3. A Party to Remember

**Hey guys~! I'm back! This chapter is the party, so beware. There is some mild drinking scene and some mild cursing...not much though and maybe and nice...yaoi scene or two. :3**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Matthew sighed as he paced the hallway, a half drunken beer in his hand. He had been waiting to piss for five minutes now.

So far, the party was better than his first party. He had shone up early, like Francis had wanted, but wound up sitting around on the couch since Gilbert's younger brother, West wouldn't let him help. He was a new guest and no new guest should be made to help set up a party.

Gilbert hadn't even been there when he arrived, much to Francis's dismay. Apparently he had to stop by the store and wound up stuck in the parking lot after there was a robbery. The cops hadn't let anyone leave until they had made sure everything was settled. He returned with the drinks half an hour before the party was supposed to start. Thank God the cops didn't check his ID. He was underage and shouldn't have been able to purchase the alcohol, but being awesome did have its quirks when it came to persuading the young, female cashier.

Matthew had to secretly admit that when Gilbert walked in the front door, he had been slightly turned on. Although, his shy exterior just froze, dumbfounded. His crush had thrown on some tight leather skinny jeans and slipped on a button down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off his strong forearms, and he hadn't bothered to button the shirt. It hung open, revealing a clean, shaven chest and firm six-pack. Matthew licked his lips as he took notice that Gilbert wasn't _that_ ripped. Just enough to give him that sexy, manly air.

.

.

"Matthew~!", the German model sang as he slung an arm around the Canadian. Matthew was on the verge of doing the I-got-to-pee-dance, when he was shaken by the man; a strong sturdy arm squeezing his shoulders. "What's up? What are you doing standing here? You should be enjoying the party~!". The German sounded kind of buzzed as his words slurred slightly in Matthews hair. His heavy breath curled along the skin of Matthew's neck and ear, sending shivers down his spine into a place that was already in pain from holding his piss in.

"I have to take a leak...", he admitted softly. He could have sworn the German tensed at his words. For what reason, he didn't know. He seemed slightly hesitant but then his grip softened around Matthew's frail shoulders.

"Come.", he said, steering the confused Canadian away from the closed door.

"Wha-?"

"You can use the bathroom in my room...", he said, cutting of the soft spoken man.

"Oh...", Matthew flushed at the mere thought of stepping in the German's room. He bit his bottom lip as the albino kept his arm around him and weaved them through the crowd. It had been supposed to be a small party, five or six college kids at the most, but when over a dozen showed up, the German brothers; used to hosting such big parties, decided it would be best to just open their doors to anyone they knew.

At least the party wasn't a dangerously loud one, where the music was blaring and annoying the hell out of the neighbors. Hell, even their neighbors came over to join the fun. Apparently the German brothers were very well known and liked.

Gilbert led Matthew down a quiet hall and to a door that was plastered with tons of bumper stickers and caution signs.

_I'm awesome. Deal with it. _

_WARNING: Awesomeness may blow your mind. _

_Sometimes I creep myself out, because I'm just that awesome. _

_Can't top this awesome creature. _

_WARNING: Lair of the awesome. _

_WARNING: Prepare to handle some awesome._

Matthew took a deep breath as the door was opened and he was nudged inside. He could feel a knot rising up in his throat as his heart slammed cruelly against his ribs. His vision was spotted with purple dots of light and Matthew wanted nothing more than to back away and run out of the house. He secretly wished he had brought his bear; Kumajirou along. He wanted to hug her ratty fur and breathe in her calming scent.

"Hey.", the German said shortly as he walked into his room, looking back to the younger kid. In his eyes, Matthew seemed afraid of being alone with him. He assumed that the Canadian was not comfortable with people he didn't really know, despite the fact that Gilbert had grown up with Francis. "Relax...I'm not going to do anything." He assured as he eyed the blond who bit his lip. Gilbert felt the sudden urge to groan when a small pink tongue peaked out from soft, parted lips and slid along the bottom as he sucked it between his teeth.

As Gilbert watched him, Matthew studied the room nervously. It was rather plain. The walls, for the most part, were bare except for a large poster of a furry yellow bird shaped like a baseball. There was a computer desk, where a laptop sat opened and flashing its screen saver; the same bird in the poster, but now perched on the top of Gilbert's hair as he obviously posed for a photo-shoot. The king-size bed was tempting Matthew to throw his body on top of it. Not to mention, those dark red satin sheets looked so soft and silky, he was willing to bet they would feel so great against his bare skin.

"Here's the bathroom.", Gilbert said, ignorant of the thoughts rolling though Matthew's head. Blinking out of his daze, the Canadian stumbled towards the open door Gilbert was indicating to. Shutting the heavy wood door behind him, he turned to relive himself. In the room, Gilbert paced to a fro on his fur rug.

.

.

When Matthew had finished and stepped out of the bathroom, Gilbert stopped pacing and looked up.

"Oh. You're done." he simply stated. "So how do you like the party so far?" he asked, trying to make small talk to get rid of the awkwardness.

The poor Canadian nervously fidgeted.

"It's cool." he mumbled.

"Just cool?" The German raised a pale eyebrow.

"I guess." Matthew was starting to eternally freak out. It was so nerve wracking to be so close to the model; let alone be at his house, and alone in his room as a party thrummed on outside the door. He was trying to keep a cool exterior, but without much alcohol in his bloodstream, he wouldn't be able to ignore the fact that his sexy crush was standing mere feet from him.

"Have you had the chance to enjoy any of the German beer yet? That shit's the most awesome stuff in the world!" Gilbert's words snapped Matthew out of his subconscious thoughts.

"W-what?" he asked confused. "There's more than one type of beer here?!"

The German nodded almost eagerly and picked up Matthew's half-full cup that was so conveniently left on his bedside table. He brought the lip to his mouth and took a cautious sip of the pale amber liquid.

"Oh, shit! Ew!" He suddenly pulled away; his face contorted with disgust. "That's so fucking nasty…"

Matthew just stared in shock. The German had just drunken out of his cup without a thought in the world. When Gilbert moved to toss the drink in his trash basket, Matthew made a small noise in the back of his throat.

"I'll go downstairs and get you some _real_ beer." The albino said as he eyed the remains with pure, unadulterated hate written across his face, before walking to the door and shutting it behind him. All party noise cut off with the closing of the door, and Matthew took a deep, shaking breath. Shuffling over to the bed, he hesitantly sat down and drew off his glasses. He cleaned then with his shirt and tried to calm down as he took deep breaths to soothe his jumping nerves. He placed his cleaned glasses on the bedside table as he waited.

.

.

It seemed that Gilbert took forever to just to go get the drink, but Matthew was secretly glad he did. It gave him more time to think over the situation. Gilbert was going to get him a drink. What if he spiked it? What if he put more alcohol in it? What is he was _trying _to get Matthew drunk?

The Canadian shook the thoughts away as the door opened and Gilbert entered the room, toeing the door shut behind him. He carried two bottles of beer in one hand and another two under his arm. The other hand held a bottle opener. Matthew sighed in relief at his stupidity. Of course Gilbert would bring closed bottles.

Two of the bottles were placed on the bedside drawer and Gilbert handed one to Matthew who silently took it.

"You should really try this." Gilbert said, breaking the silence as he opened Matthew's bottle. Dark amber foam boiled to the top rim before slowly going down. He too opened his bottle, and placing the opener aside he held out the beer and tapped the rim to Matthew's.

"Cheers!" He said before throwing back his head and chugging down the cold alcohol.

Tentatively, Matthew took a small testing sip and coughed as he accidentally inhaled the strong drink. Gilbert leaned down and pounded on his back as Matthew's lungs tried to eradicate the harsh drink from his windpipe. The flavor left his tongue tingling in the after taste and tears weld up in his eyes.

"I told you it was strong stuff!" The German said loudly, and as he continued to chuckle, he threw more of his drink back while Matthew attempted to take another few sips. Finishing his first bottle, Gilbert grabbed a second one and cracked it open before downing it in one shot.

"Ahh…" He groaned as he sat down next to Matthew and flopped back onto the satin bedding, his arms outstretched to either side of him. "That's the real stuff…Go ahead and finish yours, the other one is also yours." He said, motioning to the bottle sitting next to his now empty ones.

"I'm fine…" Matthew shook his head. "I don't think I can drink much more…" Only halfway through the bottle, the room was already starting to swim before his eyes. Matthew only wanted to keep sober in the presence of Gilbert. He didn't want the albino taking advantage of him for liking him for being an easy drunk, which he was actually not. Little did Gilbert know, but Matthew had already drunk five Budweiser light's down stairs.

"If you say so…" the German slurred as he sat up and took the third bottle for himself. Matthew watched as he knocked the drink back as if it was only water and then flushed when Gilbert turned to stare directly at him.

Slightly drunk, Gilbert reached out and brushed his fingers along Matthew's jaw. "You're really cute without your glasses, you know that?" He asked, his tongue lolling, thickly around in his mouth. Matthew flushed and stammered, but the German shushed him.

"How come you don't wear contacts? …Your eyes are so pretty colored…"

The smell of alcohol washed over Matthew's senses and he didn't notice that Gilbert had leaned really close until their noses brushed. Matthew blushed harder and he tried to push away out of shock, but the German was too strong and had already grabbed the Canadian's face between his hands and leaned closer.

"You're so cute…" He slurred as he closed in the distance between them and sloppily eased his mouth over Matthew's.

Eyes wide as saucers and frozen in utter astonishment, Matthew mewled cutely as the hot German kissed him drunkenly. A wet tongue slurped at his mouth and the mousy blonde started to shake. The German didn't notice and continued to try and practically eat his face as sharp teeth sunk into a smooth lip. The Canadian pawed at Gilbert's chest, and after a long moment, where the German managed to moan deep in his throat, Matthew successfully pushed him away sucking in much needed air.

"W-what is w-wrong with y-you?!" He cried, as he huffed in embarrassment. "We're both guys!" His conscience was screaming at him to jump the situation and tell Gilbert the truth, but the logical section of his mind was telling him to act as if homosexual actions repulsed him. Obviously his logical side won while Gilbert stuck out his bottom lip and pouted almost adorably.

"What?" He asked sadly. "You don't want to be friends?"

_Oh._

That's right. Matthew had nearly forgotten. Drunk friends in Gilbert's book usually did stupid, unpredicted things that included other people, whether male or female. The mere thought of being Gilbert's friend dampened Matthew's mood. He wanted to be more than friends, but he was positive that only this drunken Gilbert would want to do things friends didn't do.

_Still…_Matthew thought. _If I can become his friend…and hang out with him when he's drunk…I can maybe pretend that I am too and—_Matthew flushed at the thought of taking advantage of Gilbert's weak side.

"S-sure…" He stammered as Gilbert leaned into his chest and snuggled close to the shocked Canadian.

"Good." He mumbled "We can be best friends…" The pale nose rubbed into Matthew's red hoodie. "For now…" Matthew yelped as strong arms wrapped around his waist and pushed him on his back while the German continued to cuddle his chest. "Let's go to sleep."

Matthew blinked. "What about the party?" There was a pregnant pause before the German sighed and closed his eyes as he pressed his face harder into the soft red fabric.

"Fuck it. West will handle everyone else. Go to sleep." And then the albino was sleeping. Blushing from the situation Matthew had found himself in, he slowly eased out from under him and decided sleeping off his slight buzz wouldn't kill him; even if that meant sleeping in the same bed as his crush.

Being considerate, he eased off his shoes with his heels and then took off Gilbert's before shutting off the light and laying back down on the soft bedding. It was another ten minutes of Gilbert's soft breathing and awkward darkness until he was able to close his eyes and slowly drift off to sleep.

Who knew what the morning would bring?

* * *

**Hi sweeties, how's it going? Do you like the story so far? Well then, by all means, leave a review! ;) I do enjoy hearing from you guys. It makes me smile on the inside. Sometimes you, my dearies, give me the little fluttery butterflies and make me all flushed in happiness. If you want to make me like that you know what to do.**

**And *pst*! To those of you who think you're too lazy, or too good to review, I know who you are. I will haunt you and find you. I have my ways…into the cookie jar! Mwhahahahah! Take that whichever way you want…computer people. ;)**

**But no, seriously, even if you think you're too good to say my story was decent, please let me know what you truly think. I don't want any of the sugar coated reviews because you're too afraid to offend. Trust me, I can handle it. I may write for myself most of the time, but when I find myself loosing inspiration I turn to your pleas and cries for more. Go ahead, motivate me. ;) **

**I dare you.**

**~SwampyGreenie**


	4. The Day After

**Oh my god. I actually really enjoyed writing this next scene coming up. It's so funny, on so many levels! I hope you can enjoy it too, with all the dramatic irony and all that jazz!**

**Just be warned that there is a sudden shift in the use of names in this chapter. I just happened to use Country names instead of Human names because I could not, for the life of me, figure out their human names without the internet that I didn't have when I wrote this. I'm too lazy to go back and change the names now, so deal with it. Yea.**

**To be honest with you, I'm not very happy with the very small amount of reviews I've been getting. I mean, seriously guys. I've only received three reviews for all of my efforts. That's one review per chapter! **

**PATHETIC!**

**It's so un-awesome, but if I don't get much more feedback for this chapter, I can't keep my motivation running. Please be considerate that I've taken my time to write this for you and no one else.**

**Enjoy this chapter for now. I don't know if I can be motivated to write anymore…**

* * *

Speckles of light penetrated his vision and Matthew groaned and rolled his face into the satin pillow. They smelled of fresh laundry, mint and a subtle hint of stale alcohol.

Suddenly he sat up in the satin, king-sized bed.

Blinking to adjust his eyes to the bright light of the morning, Matthew glanced around the empty room. The sound of a wet hurling of liquid contents into a toilet bowl snapped his head into the direction of the bathroom door that stood ajar.

"G-Gilbert?" He called unsure.

The hurling sound continued for another moment before the flush of a toilet and then the rush of sink water. Gilbert emerged from the bathroom in a white button down and tight boxers. His arm was swiping across his mouth as he stepped over the threshold into the room; he froze as his eyes landed on Matthew sitting up in the bed.

"Oh mein gott." He breathed as his eyes widened. "I didn't do anything to you last night, did I?" He asked hurriedly.

"Thank god…" He visibly sighed as Matthew shook his head.

Matthew frowned internally and decided to not linger on the meaning behind his words. His sexy crush was standing at the door to the room with the most adorable case of bed head and he didn't want to ruin the moment by thinking up negative thoughts. As he pulled back the covers, Gilbert realized that Matthew was still fully clothed. Pointing, Gilbert asked,

"Hey, do you want to change into something more comfortable? I don't' know how long you're planning to stay here, but I'm loaded with spares. I can lend to something to wear before you want to go." Matthew flushed at the thought of wearing Gilbert's clothes but nodded slowly.

"Yeah…" he said thoughtful as he plucked at his hoodie. A change of clothes would be nice, better than nice.

As Gilbert bent over his drawer, Matthew was presented with a _very _nice view of said person's rear. The German's thighs were proportionally slim and tone with the perfect creamy complexion that made Matthew want to groan at his model perfection. When he stood up and turned around, a pair of cotton shorts and button down shirt were tossed on the bed.

"You can get dressed." He said as he walked to the door. "I'm going down stairs to get something to eat." The door shut quietly behind him.

After shimmering the slim shorts up his hips and determining that Gilbert's sleeves were too long for his arms, he bundled up his clothes into his hoodie and left them on the bathroom counter. Deeply breathing in the strange, but calming scent that lingered in Gilbert's clothes he allowed himself a comfortable moment to relax, spread out on the bundled bedding. After a few moments, he went downstairs where there was a flurry of activity in the kitchen.

Apparently, throughout the night, West had gone about the house and picked up the many random cups; some half full, other's empty, some knocked over. He had swept and mopped the floor seeing as to how both the broom and the mop were propped up against the wall in the hallway.

West now stood at the stove frying eggs into slices of toast, where a plate of bacon sat on the counter next to him. Antonio was bent over, ass in the air as his studied the contents of the fridge, complaining about there being no tomatoes for his breakfast. Gilbert sat at the island with a bored expression plastered across his features as Francis poked his cheek and laughed in that eccentric French accent.

"Oh honhonhonhonhon~! Please don't hold back from telling me, mon ami. I feel as if I'm obliged to know all about this secret life of yours!" He was singing. The blond Frenchman looked up as his cousin walked into the kitchen and stood up abruptly. Spreading his arms wide, he walked over to Matthew.

"Ah~! Qu'est-ce que ce? Look who decided to grace us with his presence." He slung a heavy arm around Matthew's shoulders and smiled deviously. "Please, by all means, since Gil refuses to tell us; how was last night with our wild dog? I'm just dying for details."

Gilbert groaned audibly loud. "Franny, you old fart. I told you, it wasn't like that."

Matthew was baffled; he didn't understand what was going on. "Wha—?" He started to ask, but was cut off by his older cousin.

"Seeing as to how Gilly is acting, I can only assume that it is _his_ derrière that is in pain, you sly dog~! Please do tell me, mon petit lapin, is that true?" Francis sang as he winked hintingly at Matthew. As realization hit him, his cheeks heats up in a burning blush and he stammered to find a good reply.

"Just ignore him." Gilbert said in a bored tone as he motioned for Matthew to sit down on the stool next to him, his scarlet eyes following his every movement. "Your cousin's only being a royal pain in _our_ _derrières_."

"Ah!" Francis faked a gasp as he slapped his hands over his heart and returned to his seat. "I'm hurt!" he pouted, falsely pained.

"I'll give you a pain…" Gilbert shot back.

Antonio turned around as shut the fridge as he frowned at Francis. "Are you really hurt?" he asked.

Gilbert slapped a hand over his eyes and groaned. "Can you get anymore stupider?" he moaned.

Francis just smirked and patted his lap. "Come here mon ami. I would feel better if you sit your hot pants on my lap, like a good puppy."

Just as Antonio turned to sit on the Frenchman's lap, West turned around and grabbed the back of his shirt, successfully plopping him in a stool, before he started to serve the food.

"You shouldn't always do what he says you know." The younger German said in a stern voice. "He just practically called you his bitch." Antonio shrugged contently and smiled goofily before he started to drink the glass of orange juice Gilbert had just passed him.

"Cock-blocks." Francis murmured as West rolled his eyes. Antonio and Matthew started to eat their share of eggs, toast and bacon as Gilbert stuck his spoon into the sugar cup before stirring it into his black tea.

"Be glad we are." He retorted, taking a testing sip of the bitter drink. "We wouldn't want you to spread your STDs to many other people, would we now?" The albino German smirked as Francis looked really pained.

"Now you're just being mean…" He whined as he stood up and West sat down. Gilbert shrugged and started to eat as Francis announced, "Duty calls." before he left for the bathroom. A nice silence stretched into a few minutes as they ate their food quietly, that is, until Antonio perked up,

"What is a cock-block?"

This time, Matthew couldn't help but smile at the Spaniard's stupidity.

.

.

After breakfast had been cleaned up, West had gone the university to meet up with his friends. Antonio took his leave as well, with the excuse of extra hours at work for some overtime pay. That left Francis, Gilbert and Matthew with nothing to do. In the end, however, Francis suggested that they play some two-on-one pool.

Gilbert immediately stole Matthew on his team, leaving the Frenchman to play for himself. Surprisingly, they discovered that Matthew was a genius and Gilbert couldn't play to save his life. Combined, they made a pretty decent team, where Francis was pretty good on his own. Though clearly not enough, since they won two rounds out of the three they played before Francis had to leave on an urgent booty-call.

Matthew was left alone with his crush and no ride home.

"I can drive you." Gilbert said nonchalantly as he sunk the blue-banded ball and cheered for himself. "Man—I am pretty awesome! And it's no big deal, don't worry about it." He assured the stammering Canadian as he sunk another ball and continued his self-praise. "Let's just finish this round first. Here, you take Francis's set of solids."

.

.

They played for another hour, where miraculously Gilbert improved and then they put the stuff away. The German checked his phone and cursed silently.

"Fuck—hey, I hope you don't mind." He started as he called to Matthew, who had stepped into the kitchen to wash the blue chalk off of his hands. "I forgot I have a photo-shoot at one-thirty. That's in twenty minutes. Can I drop you off after?"

"Sure…" Matthew said quietly as Gilbert walked into the kitchen. There was nothing like being able to see your crush do what he did best; model.

"Cool. Let me go get dressed so we can go. You too, come upstairs to grab you clothes."

Matthew blinked.

"What? You didn't think I would ask you to come along?" The albino asked as the former nodded. "Sure." He replied. "I'm not going to be rude and leave you here." He simply stated as he went upstairs.

Matthew went up behind him and walked into his room to grab his clothes where he had left them in the bathroom. Momentarily forgetting that Gilbert was getting changed, he accidentally walked in on the albino peeling off his button down shirt. With one glance at that pale, perfect, and tone chest, Matthew flushed, stammered and then grabbed his clothes before embarrassingly leaving the bathroom.

In the downstairs bathroom, he splashed cool water on his face as he scolded himself for walking in on the German. Gilbert hadn't seemed to mind one bit that the Canadian had seen him partially naked, but Matthew felt guilty of a naïve form of peeping. When he had changed and gathered Gilbert's borrowed clothes in his arms, Gilbert was already waiting at the front door with his keys in his hand, flipping them into small summersaults. Matthew stuttered an apology for taking so long and after being direct where to leave the used clothes, they left the house in Gilbert's black Mustang.

Part of the car ride was quiet as Gilbert drove at a leisurely pace. Clearly he had the luxury to be late to his own photo-shoot. Matthew kept on fidgeting with his thumbs inside the sleeves of his hoodie and finally he grew enough courage to pipe up and ask the question that had been weighing most heavy on his mind.

"So…" he started, shyly glancing out the window to avoid having to look at the driver. "…about last night…" A heavy silence seemed to stretch between them for a second before Gilbert blinked in remembrance.

"What about it?" He asked as he clicked on his turn signal.

"W-what was that…when you tried to..." His voice seemed to fail him at that moment.

"Oh." Gilbert exclaimed. "That—well…" He seemed to be trying to avoid looking at Matthew too, as his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. "You know…" he said thoughtfully as he tried to approach the situation at hand with a step of caution.

"I was drunk." He settled for.

"When I'm sober I don't usually go making out with guys…I guess that I just…turn _gay_ when I'm wasted." Matthew winced at the tone he used as he pronounced the word 'gay'.

"I'm sorry if I acted weird." Gilbert apologized. "I'll make sure to keep off you next time…besides, I'm sure you're into those pretty girls with nice tits and cute butts, and all." Matthew swallowed hard at the knot that rose in his chest. It was pretty painful to hear his crush tell him that he thought he was straight, but he didn't say anything in fear he might ruin what little friendship he had built up between them from the morning hours. The rest of the car ride was, again bathed in silence and Matthew thanked the god when it ended and Gilbert turned off the ignition.

"We're here." He said. "Let's go."

The photo-shoot building was a medium size, three-story office building with pictures of the hottest models plastered in the windows. Gilbert's picture was right on the front door and as they walked in, Matthew had to take a step back so that he was out of the way of a receptionist who came hurrying up to Gilbert's side. She had medium length brown hair that bobbed in a funny way as she nodded her head and shuffled her hips in a very preppy manner.

"Mr. Beilschmidt! Thank god you're here. Mr. Roderich is freaking out! He wanted to start this shoot six minutes ago and is storming around his office." Her heels clicked professionally on the linoleum floor as they briskly walked to a set of white double doors.

"Thank you, Miss Elizaveta. You can go now." Came the reply. Gilbert, Matthew and Elizaveta turned on their heels to look at the speaker.

"Mr. Roderich." She said out of fearful respect before shuffling away.

Mr. Roderich was a heads taller than Gilbert and had medium length brown hair. He had slim shoulders and his eyes glinted behind his thin-wire rimmed glasses. A prominent beauty mark was on the right of his upper chin and a thin cowlick curved up into the air above his head and gave him the air of some royalty.

Turning to Gilbert, Mr. Roderich smiled at him.

"I supposed you had a reason to be late." He said bluntly.

Before the German could reply, he cut him off. "Forget it. I don't really care. Let's just get this over with…I want my paycheck today." He said as he motioned both Gilbert and Matthew past the double door into a room full of sets and props. Here and there, several famous models posed for their own photo-shoots and Gilbert strode to the back of the room and into a small area designated for makeup and dressing.

Turning with his hands on his hip, Gilbert addressed the nearest girl and barked something to her in German. The harsh language rolling off his tongue caused Matthew to bite his lip. God, could he get anymore sexier?

"I would like to kindly ask you not to order _my_ people around, Mr. Beilschmidt." Mr. Roderich sternly said as he watched the albino strip of his normal clothes and down an open vest with high-waisted booty-shorts.

As if his pale legs weren't already perfect, his bare shoulders and tone stomach made Matthew's head do flip-flops. Gilbert sat down at a makeup station and the same girl he spoke to in German, returned and started to apply light foundation to his otherwise flawless face. As he sat incredibly still, Gilbert motioned to Matthew.

"Mr. Austria Roderich…meet Matthew Williams; Francis Bonnefoy's cousin."

"Nice to meet you…" Matthew said shyly and took the hand that was offered to him.

"You know…" Mr. Roderich said thoughtfully as he eyes the paling Canadian. "You're quiet the good looking type we need for our next issue of 'Boys Ai'."

"Austria…" Gilbert warned as if he knew what his words were leading to.

"Maybe I can interest you in a paid photo-shoot?" The business man said as he continued, ignoring his best model and producing a business card from somewhere out of his suit pocket.

"He doesn't need to be in that gay issue…Austria." Gilbert said crossing his legs, annoyed that his boss was taking advantage of his new friend. Turning to Matthew, who was taking the card and reading the fancy writing upon it, he said,

"Don't listen to him. He's just trying to get you into the modeling business because he likes dressing up cute boys and making them look fappable."

"I don't know…" Matthew started. "…can one trial shooting hurt?" He asked innocently and Gilbert groaned 'yes'. Inside his head, Matthew was freaking out. Did Gilbert just group him in the category of 'cute' boys?!

"Don't scare him." Mr. Roderich said as he looked down at the rather striking figure of Matthew. His purple eyes intrigued the business man, and he wondered just how far they alone could carry him in the modeling profession. "It's not as bad as he makes it out to be…especially when the photographers of 'Boys Ai' are so friendly—"

"Friendly my ass." Gilbert snorted. "More like trying to get in every hot guy's pants."

"Well then, Mr. straight-guy, why don't we set a bargain." Mr. Roderich retorted with a well-placed smirk. "Why don't you join Mr. Matthew if he decides to go to this photo-shoot. I might make big bucks if I have two handsome creatures on the cover of 'Boys Ai'." He pushed his glasses snuggly up the bridge of his nose. "You know that's their dying wish, am I not correct?"

Turning his head haughtily, Gilbert considered the proposition.

"I'm seriously thinking of considering your offer, Mr. Roderich." Matthew said. If this was his chance to be close to Gilbert _and_ earn a few extra bucks doing it, he was willing to risk their budding friendship over it. He watched as Gilbert gave him a look before snapping,

"Fine. But I will only show up in that photo-shoot is Matthew is there. I refuse to go alone to some highly social, gay-boys photo-shoot." He turned back and let the girl finish her last touches before he hopped down from the tall chair and strode over to and empty white-sweep. Throwing himself onto the floor and striking an extremely seductive pose, he told the preparing photographer,

"Do your worse Casanova; I have a friend to take home after this."

* * *

**Ok. So, definitely not what I was expecting as a turnout, but far better than I was expecting. I really, really like this chapter. I've grown a fond love for a sarcastic Gilbert, although that may, or may not be his exact personality. Who cares? That's why I'm writing this in an AU. ;) I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. It's like WAY past the time I should have showered and done my homework, but I don't care. I'll do it in the early morning hours. ;P**

**Please be patient with me for the next chapter.**

**Lots of love,**

**~SwampyGreenie**

**Later Update: I want to thank The Great Susinko for letting me know about a mistake in my work. I have gone back, fixed it, and re-uploaded this chapter. Thank you so much dear!**

**~SwampyGreenie**


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